The Blueprint (The Upgrade Book 1) (22 page)

“It might,” said Daniel with a straight face, but then he broke into a smile. “It’s a bit weird for the first time, but there’s nothing to worry about it.”

“Alright,” said Jason.

He pulled the helmet onto his head and Steve locked it in place. For a moment he was completely blind and deaf, then the soft inside of the goggles attached itself to his face. He felt a bit of suction as the goggles pressed themselves onto him. Something wet slipped into his ears, making him cringe, and he felt sharp prickles running down from the top of his head to the base of his spine. Leibowitz was right. It was
weird
. It didn’t feel mechanical; it felt as if some alien animal was slowly absorbing his head.

Suddenly there was light and the sound, and Jason was instantly disoriented and dizzy. He tried to blink and looked left and right to understand why. The goggles prevented him from blinking, and the movement made the dizziness even worse.

“I told you not to move,” said Steven. “Just stay still. Get used to it first.”

Jason did as he was told, trying to process the view, then it dawned on him. There were no blind spots in his line of vision. He was looking in every direction simultaneously. What’s more, the view was enhanced. He could see the heat radiated by Steven and Daniel; he saw the power running through the cables on the floor, and when he focused on Steven’s face, it zoomed in, opening slices of different images and sounds.

It was like looking at the CAT scan, x-ray, normal, and infrared picture while listening to the flow of blood through the person’s veins, the beating of his heart, and breathing. All at the same time. It was overwhelming.

“Trippy, isn’t it?” said Steven, patting him on a shoulder. “You get used to it after a while, though.”

“It is crazy,” said Jason trying not to make any sudden moves.

“Let me show you something even crazier,” said Daniel. “I want you to stand on your hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said,” said Leibowitz, chuckling. “Put the palms of your hands on the floor and lift your legs and torso into the air.”

“I can’t do that.” Jason wasn’t sure if they were making fun of him or being serious. “I couldn’t do it even when I was a kid.”

“Try,” said Steven. “Just try to visualize it in your head first. You might surprise yourself.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me falling and breaking your multimillion dollar toys,” said Jason, “I’ll give it a shot.”

He bent over, placing the palms of his hands on the cold polished floor, trying to imagine how he could find the center of gravity to at least attempt the stand.

The full panoramic view moved and flipped onto its head. He could see his torso and legs stretching toward the ceiling.

“Try to stand on one hand now,” encouraged Steven.

Jason picked one of his palms off the floor. It was the strangest feeling he’d ever had. He could feel his muscles straining, trying to keep his body in balance, yet he also felt detached, like in a video game, where he could make his avatar perform tasks he could never do in real life.

“How’s that feel?” said Leibowitz. “Is it mind-blowing or what?”

“Holy shit,” said Jason, standing on one hand in the middle of the white marble floor, his body in a graceful pose of an upside-down praying mantis. “I know Kung-Fu.”

”You’ve got a few scratches this time,” said the gray-haired woman with a ponytail, “but nothing we can’t fix.”

He watched her eyes as she spoke. By now, he was getting good at reading people’s faces. Not that he saw a lot of people. She was the only one who wasn’t afraid of him. He knew he was different than the rest. After all, he saw himself in the mirror, but he also knew he wasn’t
that
different. He was taller, stronger, and faster than any human he’d met, and he knew he was
built, b
ut was it enough for them to be afraid of him?

“You’re doing it again,” the woman said patting him on the right knee. “I need you to stay still.”

He looked at her, not sure what was she referring to.

“You’re tapping your foot,” she said.

Now that she said that he could suddenly hear the clanking noise as his right boot continued to tap on the hard floor, then it stopped.

“Much better,” she said.

She continued to work on him for the next two hours. At some point two men came in and helped her replace a few armor plates on his chest, shoulders, and arms. They were quick and efficient, moving around with purpose as they disconnected the damaged parts and attached the new ones. He watched their eyes as they worked. They were scared of him.

When the parts were installed he was transferred to the table, his arms and legs secured with massive titanium locks.

The phone rang, interrupting the woman’s routine, and she frowned when she saw the number on the screen.

“Hello?” she said, answering the call. “I’m about to start the procedure. Can I call you back?”

“I’m afraid it can’t wait,” said the voice on the phone.

He could hear the conversation from the table as clearly as if it were playing in his head. The man spoke differently than the people he knew. The cadence of his speech, the way he said things.

“What are his levels?” asked the man.

“About 45%,” she said, looking at the screens.

“It’ll have to do,” he said. “I’m sending you the mission package. Please upload it immediately. Make sure his ammo is restocked. The truck will pick him up in ten minutes.”

“But if he drops below 20% we might get some permanent damage. At least give me thirty minutes.”

“No time,” the man said. “Get him ready. If anything happens, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure that out.”

The woman with gray hair hung up the phone and put it away. She looked down at him with an emotion Martin hadn’t seen before.

“I wish you didn’t have to do that. I’m sorry,” the woman said.

•     •     •

“Get me the Senator,” said Alex as he stormed through the doors of his office. “I have to talk to him right now.”

“Sir? There’s something you need to see first.” His assistant motioned to the massive doors leading to his private room.

“Susan, it’s going to have to wait,” he said, waving her off.

“I’m afraid it can’t wait,” she said, opening the door and holding it for him.

He went inside, and waited for her to close the doors.

“Our facility in White Plains has been hit,” she said when they were alone.

“What do you mean, hit? Something stolen?”

“Heavy weapons. Three casualties, structural damage to the building. Our servers were wiped clean.”

She picked up a remote control and turned on a giant TV on the wall. The footage of the siege of the warehouse started to play on the big screen.

“What the fuck is that thing?” he said, pointing at the shadowy figure as it leaned into the onslaught of the Vulcan gun.

“We don’t know, sir. The system stopped recording after the second sentry tower had been destroyed.”

“Anyone seen anything?”

“No sir,” she said. “There were only three guards. All dead.”

“When did it happen? Just now?” he asked looking at the grainy footage.

“No, last night,” she said, “We didn’t know anything until people started to arrive for work this morning. There were no police reports. The guards called for help, but someone re-routed their call.”

“Send the team in, secure the site, and get me the God damn senator on the phone,” he said, getting behind the desk. “For anyone else, I’m not here.”

“The team is already on the ground, sir,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ll make sure the senator calls you in the next fifteen minutes.”

After she left he watched the looped video for a few times, wincing every time the flash erupted from the shadowy figure bringing the sentry tower down. His experts would be able to tell what kind of weapons had been used. He had no doubt it was some kind of handheld rocket launcher.

His phone rang, disrupting his thoughts.

“Good morning, Alex,” said the senator, his well-tuned baritone filling the room. “I understand you lost control of a small company this morning. I’m sorry.”

“I’m under attack,” Alex snapped. “I don’t need words, I need action. The company was just the tip of the iceberg.”

“What do you mean?”

“One of my facilities was attacked last night. The place is in ruins, my guards were killed, and my servers were wiped out.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“This is a fucking war, Bill, and if we don’t strike back we might as well dig our own graves.”

“What do you propose?”

“Here’s what I need you to do,” Alex sat back and took a deep breath. “First, I need to take care of Jason Hunt. I need you to have him arrested for stock manipulation. Then—”

“Alex,” the Senator interrupted him, “you know just as well as I do it doesn’t work like that. You need to go through proper channels. I can call in some favors with the guys from the Securities and Exchange Commission and launch an investigation, but I can’t just have him arrested.”

“I don’t fucking care how you are going to do this, Bill. Get it done, and when he’s processed I don’t want him to be in some white-collar detention center with leather couches and large TVs. I want him with the general population, the scum of the earth, you understand me?”

“Fine,” the Senator said. “I’ll get it done.”

“Now,” said Alex, “we need to move the timetable for Stage Three. The time has come to move the pieces. The attack on my facility is just a beginning. We either start early or else we’ll lose it before we even begin.”

“When?”

“This Friday,” said Engel, “at midnight.”

“It’s impossible, Alex. And Alpha One would never—”

“Alpha One is playing for both teams,” said Engel coolly.

“I wasn’t sure about that in the beginning, but now I’m convinced this is what’s been happening. What I think he wants to happen is that we get ourselves bloody, then he’ll swoop in and take it all.”

“You’re scaring me, Alex,” said the senator in a quiet voice.

“It’s not the time to be scared, Bill. But if we don’t make the move now, this time next year we’re all going to be either in jail or dead.”

Mike was fast asleep when the phone rang. Chuck’s cell phone number was displayed on the little screen.

“Any good news?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” said Chuck. “I spoke to my buddy from the Bureau, and he believed your story. They’re alerting the President as we speak and will reach out to ISCD.”

“Alright, this is good news.”

“But they want to move us to a different location. He wants a team guarding us 24/7.”

“I can’t say I love the idea,” said Mike, “but it was to be expected. What do you need me to do?”

“Sit tight for now and wait for his team. They should be there in less than twenty minutes.”

“How do I know it’s them?”

“I’ll send you the pictures as soon as I hang up.”

“What about you and your partner?”

“We’ll meet you at the new safe house in a few hours. I want to stick around for the conversation with the Interpol, and Ryan needs to make up a good story for his absence at the precinct.”

By the time Mike was able to get dressed and collect the essentials, he heard a car pulling up to the house. He watched the men getting out of the large van through the closed blinds. Connelly sighed in relief when he saw that they matched the pictures he had received from Chuck.

He stepped onto the porch and let them usher him inside of the vehicle. They were speeding away before he even had a chance to take a seat.

“Nick,” said one of the six men, offering Connelly his hand. “I’ll be in charge of your detail.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Nick,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. The agent had olive skin, which betrayed Latin roots, and a strong Brooklyn accent. For the first time since the ambush in his apartment, Mike started to relax. These guys were the real deal.

The new safe house was a small one-story warehouse in Jamaica. A six-foot brick fence with barbwire on top of it separated it from the outside world. The place was dingy and old, but solid, and Connelly was happy to find another three agents inside the warehouse awaiting their arrival.

“Not too many stars in this hotel, but it’ll do,” said Nick, smiling. “There’s a small kitchen in the back, if you’re hungry, and some bunk beds if you want to rest. My boss will want to debrief you when he gets here, but that won’t be for a couple of hours. So take some time.”

“Thanks,” Mike looked around, taking in the surroundings. “Those bunk beds sound good, actually.”

He limped to the back of the building and hoisted himself onto the bed. It was squeaky, and the blankets smelled moldy and stale, but he didn’t mind. The wounds were taking their toll. He was healing well, but it drained the energy out of him at a quick pace. He hadn’t been that tired since the camp.

•     •     •

“Sir, wake up.”

Someone was gently shaking him, and Mike blinked, his eyes trying to focus. A young man’s face appeared in front of him.

“What’s up?” he said and cleared his throat. “Your boss is here? And why is it dark?”

“We might be compromised,” said the man quietly. “Our satellite surveillance is picking up some activity around the house. There are two mini vans parked just a block away and we’re seeing too many heat signatures that are staying inside the vehicles.”

“What’s too many?”

“Six in one van. Only two in another, but that one is weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“The driver seems normal, but his passenger’s signature is off. It’s too big and too hot. Doesn’t make any sense.”

“Okay,” Mike said, his pulse quickening. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t think we’re in any immediate danger. There aren’t enough of them. I think they know it as well, as they haven’t made any moves yet, but more can be on the way, so we called in reinforcements. They’re five minutes out.”

“So we sit tight and wait.” Mike looked around, taking mental notes on everyone’s positions. “I need a gun.”

“Sorry, can’t do,” the man said apologetically.